Of Angels
by WhatWasOnceSilver
Summary: Daltonverse. Angel!Julian. AU Jogan
1. Of Angels

It looks kind of…tired.

He doesn't know why he thinks this, not exactly – maybe it's something in the way it holds itself. There aren't any circles under its eyes, but…its fingers curl and uncurl with very small movements, and its skin is too pale and too clear.

The man at the front of the platform clears his throat. "All right. Shall we begin?"

There are only two of them up on that stage behind Jude, but his gaze is drawn to the first one, for some reason.

It must be the eyes.

"Right, anyone else?"

Its wings have almost a bluish tinge – he can't tell if it's from the light or from something else, but it's beautiful.

They call it Kurt. It's not its real name, of course – they don't have labels in the sky – but it's fitting. A name he wishes he could say more often, and not to himself.

"Very well. Kurt?"

He watches as it steps forward and walks down the stairs into the crowd, hands bound together as it approaches its strangers, ready to be taken away.

The auctioneer glances behind him. "Julian?"

He can't see its face very well – most of its body is blocked. It doesn't move, but Logan can see its eyes flicker up to Jude's face.

"Julian, will you come forward?"

There's a pause and an absolute lack of movement on its part, and then it steps forward, into the light.

Logan frowns.

That's not an angel. He doesn't know what it is, but it's not an angel. It looks all wrong – its eyes are like fire and its hair is like a wind and its limbs are like trees. He doesn't know what it is, but it's not an angel.

"And what, ladies and gentlemen, what will you pay for such a fine specimen?"

Offers rise out of the crowd immediately, but Logan's gaze remains steady to run over its skin. It's not pale, like Kurt's. It looks to be very, very smooth, and more cared for. The skin is darker. But it's absolutely flawless.

It can't be an angel.

"Higher? Anyone higher?"

Its face…its face is all wrong. Not tired, like Kurt's. Not tired, but inexplicable, like it holds no memory of physical experience of any relative of human emotion. Like it's felt sights unknown to even the best explorer, and lain inside fires without thought.

It's different because of the stature of its face. The face is beautiful; the face is completely and utterly inhuman.

Perhaps an angel after all.

"Sixty-four ten!"

Logan blinks and turns towards the shout. Derek is standing a little ways away from him, waving his ticket in the air and chewing his gum.

The auctioneer laughs. "All right, Derek, I hear you. That's quite a sum, boy." Derek just shrugs and smiles.

The auctioneer smiles as well, shaking his head. "All right. Do I hear anything higher? No? Going – going – sold. Congratulations on your angel, Derek Seigerson."

Logan watches as Derek grins and shrugs his way through the crowd. Jude says something quietly. Julian's eyes flick in his direction, and then towards Derek, who is standing at the bottom of the stage. It waits a moment, and then begins the descent down the stairs. Derek receives his prize, untying its hands to kiss the back of one. Taking that same blessed hand gently, he makes his way through the crowd, which parts so as not to touch his angel.

He arrives right in front of Logan, grinning like a fool.

Logan says nothing for a moment, just raises his eyebrow.

"An angel, Derek? Really?"

Derek's grin widens. "Not for me. For you."

Logan blinks, dropping his arms from where they were folded over his chest. "You – you're giving me an _angel_? _Giving_ me?"

"Yup." Derek hands it over, glancing at it fondly before smiling back at Logan and touching the tip of his cap in a sort of salute. "Well, then! We've had a good time, friend, but I must be off to see a man about a mongoose. Toodles!" With a bounce he's off, disappearing behind the tall buildings that scatter around the courtyard quickly.

Logan stares after him and then turns to see his angel. Its eyes stare back at him, brown and very, very deep.

What on Earth is he supposed to do with this?

…

"And this…is the last dining hall. There's a small parlor across from it, if you ever feel the need to sit alone and…read, or something."

Logan turns back to his angel, who is just standing still, wings folded neatly behind its back. It blinks and looks at its owner.

Logan feels extremely awkward. What is he to do? What is he to do with an _angel_, of all things?

"So."

And still, Julian says nothing. Logan starts to grow annoyed.

"Why don't you ever _say_ anything?"

It blinks again. "I wasn't ever commanded to speak."

"You don't need my permission to speak."

The angel nods.

_Well, this is productive._ He puts a hand to the back of his neck and rubs it.

The thing is, it's dark. Almost time to sleep. His dwelling is large, and it took a long time to show Julian everything. And he has no room prepared for an angel to sleep in.

"You're welcome to sleep in my room, if you want. I think that's the custom. I don't know if it matters to you, but you might want to know that I'm gay."

Julian just looks at him. "I don't understand."

"I'm gay. It's my sexual orientation."

Julian cocks its head to the side. "I'm sorry, you remain unclear."

Logan's forehead furrows. "I'm not attracted to females. Romantically. I'm attracted to males."

Julian stares at him. Logan grows annoyed again.

"Why is that so difficult for you to understand?"

"I understand your meaning," it replies. "I don't understand your reasoning."

Logan blinks. "My reasoning?"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because some people find that to be wrong – and disgusting. I figured it would be that way for the angel. It's been known to follow God's word, you know."

"I am not an 'it.'"

"You're not human."

"You assign your animals genders."

"You're not an animal."

"I look just like you. I look like a male. It shouldn't be so hard to think of me as one. I've got all the right parts."

"What does your body have to do with your gender?"

"If you can give God a gender, you can give me one too."

"Fine. You're a 'he.' Happy?"

Julian shoots him a strange look.

"Never mind. Let's go sleep." Logan turns around and begins to walk away. It's a few seconds before he hears that Julian is echoing his footsteps.

"Yes," says the angel as he follows, "I suppose I should learn how."

…

Julian doesn't do anything. Logan doesn't use him for sex, so he just sits alone, hands folded gently in his lap, looking at nothing. Sometimes it annoys Logan. Sometimes he approaches him.

"Why don't you _do_ something?"

No answer.

"As your master, I command you to do something."

"You're not my master. You're my owner."

Not for the first time, Logan wishes Derek had given him Kurt instead of Julian.

"You fell from the sky for a reason, Julian. Namely, to listen to me."

"I didn't fall."

"What?"

"Angels are taken from the sky – they float like pinpricks, and mankind plucks them down. Not all of us have wings." Behind him, long feathers flutter, struck through with silver. "They're not considered pretty enough, those ones."

"Pretty enough for what? To be slaves?"

"Slaves?" Julian turns to look at him. "God commanded us to love mankind. Slaves are human. Angels only know how to serve, and a few gold coins won't give us freedom."

"So what, you're going to – _love_ your master? That's bullshit. Free men love each other. Slaves just do their work."

"Humans don't know what it's like to love." His tone should scorn, but it's just quiet. "You're obsessed with the struggle of power, aren't you all? Steady love is the rock that presses against your neck and holds you to the ground. So sit there, Master, and tell me that there is a single person on this Earth who would give another the clothing on their back and lie naked while their loved one did nothing to hold them. Tell me there is a person who would lie in that place forever and give their lover their own blood to drink when they thirsted. A person who would serve them animal carcasses while their wounds gaped blood over their comfortable chains. Tell me."

There's something piercing about his eyes.

…

He's lounging on his bed when he hears it, long limbs sprawled out as he flips through the sections of an old document carelessly. He's just begun to run his finger down the rough surface of the text when a sudden noise crashes through his quarters, foreign and out of place.

His brow furrows and he makes to stand up when his view of the hallway is constricted and Julian falls in front of his open door. A thin line of blood – lighter than that of a human – streaks down his skin. Logan springs into action. As he makes his way into the hallway he's just in time to see a pair of feet flee around the corner.

His gaze turns back to Julian sharply. The angel is curled up on the ground, shaking, hands over his eyes.

Logan crouches by him and puts a hand on his shoulder tentatively. "Julian? What happened?"

When he cries, the angel's tears are heavy. "I cry because I have a father who's never shown concern for the fissures in my heart."

Logan blinks. By the tears in Julian's clothing, he assumes someone tried to rape him, or worse.

"For surely it is not with angels that He is concerned, but with the descendants of Abraham," says Julian. "For surely it is not with angels," he chants, "but with the descendants of Abraham."

Logan has taken his hand off that warm skin. He tries to put it back on, but Julian flinches.

"For surely it is not with angels," he repeats. "For surely it is not with angels."

"Julian – "

"Surely it is not with angels. Not with angels. Not with angels."

_Not with angels_.

…

In the end, it's not Logan who forces him to do anything. Julian comes to him in the early stages of the night, cloth falling from his chest graciously. His chest is scarred.

Logan's hands are rough, but he tries to stroke his wings gently. It has some correlation; the angel's back arches off the bed with each touch.

It's only afterwards that Logan kisses his lips, and only when he's asleep.

…

Julian hides from him for days. When he finally sees him he finds out it's because his wings are rotting. His beautiful, big wings – they shrivel and turn brown, and the flesh drips off slowly, leaving brittle frames that break and leave pain when Logan tries to touch them.

"You look like a pregnant Bella Swan."

"Maybe I am losing my soul."

…

The wings have fallen, and now there are only stark scars on his back – large red lines where those magnificent feathers once connected with his skin. Julian sits on his bed and cries, terrible sounds screaming through his body.

"I – I – " The angel takes a deep breath, and a sob rips its way out of his throat so violently there's almost blood. "I've fallen in love with you."

Logan looks at him uncertainly. "What…what does that mean?"

Julian shakes his head viciously, long nails going to scratch the tears from his eyes. "You know what it means."

He doesn't, really.

"I love you too."

"No you don't."

"I can set you free. I can let you go away from me, if you want. It's possible. You don't have to stay."

Julian glances up at him. Dark paths of mascara streak their way down his face.

"I'll do it if you want. But…if it's at all possible…" He takes his hand and places it on Julian's, and for once, the angel doesn't pull away. "I want you to stay."

Julian cried because he thought he wasn't loved. He stops because he's not sure that's true anymore.

"Will you be my angel, Julian?"

Julian looks at him.


	2. Of Men

**This doesn't make any sense. But someone wanted a sequel. So yes. I apologize for my bizarreness.**

**Less than three.  
**

* * *

"_You need to stop forgetting what I am."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because I'm not your friend. You're searching for a bond that doesn't exist."_

* * *

"Julian?"

* * *

"_You don't act like you ever feel."_

"_Of course I feel. I feel like there's a God in heaven who'd rather caress the hairs of your head than send me a gust of wind."_

"…"

"_Though I can't say I blame Him. Yours are quite nice."_

* * *

A smile. "Have you been hiding from me?"

A smile. "No. I was just looking at the way the wind moves the leaves off the trees."

"I think you're hiding."

A laugh. "Can I blame you? You keep trying to _touch_ me."

* * *

"_Are you a virgin, Julian?"_

"_No."_

"_When did you – "_

"_Before I was sold to you."_

"…"

_"You do know what angels are brought here for, don't you?"_

* * *

"I'm sorry, they're just – they're kind of fascinating."

"Ah! Stop that; they're still sore."

"Sorry." He wraps him in his arms, carefully avoiding the golden wings. "I'm sorry."

* * *

_"Julian?"_

_ "Yes?"_

_ "…never mind."_

* * *

Logan turns to him. "Where's Derek?"

"On the down low."

"How do you even know what that _means_?"

* * *

"_He fell in love with an incubus. He was human…but barely. That's why he loved him."_

* * *

"I'm not as naïve as you might think, human boy."

* * *

_"Julian?"_

_ "Hm?"_

_ "…I love you."_

_ "Te amo quoque, mon amour."_

* * *

"Will you marry me?"

* * *

_Tu vois, tu peux faire l'été,_

_Tu vois, je peux porter l'hiver,_

_Tu vois, on peut appareiller,_

_Tu vois, on peut croquer la Terre._

* * *

"Marry you? The human ceremony performed to bind two people before God's sight?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"If you have to ask that…you shouldn't answer the question."

"I didn't think it was a question you were ever going to ask."

* * *

"_God loves his angels."_

"_He loves you more. The color of your eyes is worth more than all the love of the heavenly host."_

"_Why?"_

"_Even Lucifer in hell loves his God."_

"_I don't understand."_

* * *

"Well?"

* * *

"_An angel will always love God, and God will always love you."_

* * *

"Yes."

* * *

_ "You were never meant to be condemned."_


End file.
